Two of a Kind
by Fate8
Summary: One shot. A DEO agent comes to Gotham to research Batman, but gets caught up in some ugly business. Features Two-Face. Reviews always appreciated.


Detective Harvey Bullock was sitting at his desk, reading a report while absently munching on a donut when she walked in. The woman was tall, blond and moved with the easy grace of an athlete. Bullock pegged her to be about twenty-four, and sighed inwardly as she stopped in front of him.

"Detective Harvey Bullock," she asked.

"That's what the nameplate says."

"I'm special agent Angela Hunter from the Department of Extranormal Operations.

"Yeah, I kinda figured. I got a special memo saying you'd be by here. I also got a memo that told me to provide complete cooperation between you and Gotham City's finest." Bullock's voice hardened. "So, tell me Agent Hunter, why do I have to hold hands with some wet behind the ears D.E.O. agent?"

Hunter looked away. "Do you have a problem with that," she asked.

"Me? No." Bullock picked up the file he had been reading. "Now, Judy Benson, one of the Gotham citizens I have sworn to serve and protect, might wonder why I'm playing nice with a fed instead of looking for the punk who beat and robbed her last night, but hey, we all got priorities."

I'm sorry I've taken you away from your normal duties, Detective, "said Hunter. She leveled a cool gaze at Bullock. "But I have been charged with an important mission. One I will see carried out."

"Fine. Let's get this over with. Why are you here?"

Hunter sat down in front of Bullock's desk, and leaned forward. "Not much is known about a certain masked vigilante that makes this city his base of operations. Is he a meta? An alien? An experiment by some mad scientist? No one knows. My job is to find out all that I can about the Batman and crack his identity." She raised her chin slightly as she said it. Agent Hunter was proud that she had been given such an important assignment.

Bullock stared blankly at her for a handful of heartbeats, then erupted into laughter. He reached over and grabbed a copy of the Gotham Gazette that had been lying on his desk. "Here," he said. "Take the real estate section. You might wanna look into buying a house. One with a long mortgage." Agent Hunter's eyes narrowed, but Bullock beat her to the punch. "Hey, you want to waste time and tax payer money, that's your business. Bats ain't exactly the type to sit down for an interview. Especially with a fed."

"I'll find him, Detective Bullock, and when I do, his secrets will be unraveled, one by one." She pushed away from the desk and stalked out the door.

Bullock looked around and said, "This could be fun," to no one in particular.

The next three weeks became a study in frustration for Agent Hunter. She reviewed case files, interviewed people, and ran down any mention or trace of Batman, trying to create a usable profile. So far, what she a gathered were descriptions that ran from demon to savior, myth to meta. Bullock was a good resource, and she reluctantly admitted that he did his job well, but every time she ran into a dead end, he would smirk and shake his head. It was getting to the point that is she saw one more donut or smelly cigar, she was going to punch Bullock in his fat face.

Two days later, Hunter walked into the police station and immediately noticed a significant rise in tension. She found Bullock at his desk, looking even more rumpled than usual, if that were possible. He was poring over a map of Gotham, one cigar in his mouth, while another burned slowly in an ashtray. Empty coffee cups littered the area, but the usual bag of donuts remained unopened. 

"What's going on around here," asked Hunter.

Bullock looked up with red-rimmed eyes. " I got no time to baby sit you today, fed. We've got real trouble on the loose. Two-Face escaped from Arkham last night. Filthy freaks. Whenever one of those crazies gets free, people die."

Hunter left him alone after that, but spent some time looking up information on Two-Face. His real name was Harvey Dent, and he had been an up and coming Gotham District Attorney. His rise came to an abrupt halt when half of his face was horribly disfigured by acid. The perpetrator was a crime boss that Dent had just convicted to a long prison sentence. The incident apparently fractured Dent's psyche, causing him to evolve into the murderous Two-Face. He became obsessed with duality, and was said to make major decisions by flipping a coin. Dent established himself as a major player in the Gotham underworld. This led to frequent clashes with established legal authorities, as well as the Batman. The last bit piqued Hunter's interest. This Two-face could lead her to the elusive Batman. She resolved to keep a close eye on the case.

There was no sign of Two-Face for a week. Each day, the atmosphere at the police station became more volatile. Fuses shortened and tempers flared. Agent Hunter watched all this with a wry bemusement, while continuing her own work. She was reviewing an eyewitness account of an attempted robbery foiled by "an eight-foot flying shadow creature", when the Two-Face situation exploded. 

The call came in that Dent had taken the ten year-old twin daughters of Gotham millionaire John Krentz. He had demanded five million dollars or one of the girls would die. Cops scrambled like angry, mad bees. Two-Face had given Krentz three hours to come up with the money. At that point, he would contact the distraught millionaire with further instructions.

Bullock gathered up his hat and jacket a short time later and headed for the door. Hunter caught up with him just before he made it out.

"Where are we going, Detective?"

"We ain't going nowhere, fed. I'm going to set up a command post at the luxurious Krentz residence, so we'll be ready when Two-Face calls."

"Good. I'll accompany you."

"No. Leave this to the real cops, sweetheart. You'll just get underfoot. Stay here and keep studying up on your boyfriend."

"You don't understand. I am going. There is a good chance that Batman will show up before this situation is resolved, and I will be there if and when he does."

Bullock looked at her, opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he said, "Fine. You can come, but stay out of my way." Hunter nodded and the pair left the station. 

They arrived at the Krentz mansion to find a flurry of police activity and a barely composed Krentz. Bullock went to talk with the site OIC, while Hunter found a comfortable spot where she could keep an eye on everyone. Sometime later, Bullock strolled over and sank down next to her.

"The waitin' is the worst part, ya know," he said in a weary voice. " I'm getting a bad feeling from this. Krentz said there was a story on him and his family on one of those Lifestyles of the Arrogant and Careless television shows." He paused, then said, "I hear they get great T.V. reception at Arkham." Bullock fished a cigar out of his pocket, got up and wandered away.

Two minutes past the deadline, the phone rang. Krentz picked it up with a shaking hand. Hunter listened to him while he spoke, while Bullock caught the whole conversation on the police recording device. The call lasted less than three minutes. The police sprang into action as soon as the connection was broken. Hunter followed Bullock to his car.

"Something is not right," he said as they steered through traffic. "Two-Face gave Krentz the drop point, then asked if the police were listening in. Krentz said no, and Two-Face began to laugh. Krentz asked to speak to the girls, and Two-Face told him 'They're alive Krentz, what more do you want?' The he began to laugh again."

"What do you think is going on," asked Hunter.

"I think the freak has gone over the edge," replied Bullock. "This isn't about the money, and I don't think it will have a happy ending."

They pulled up outside of a building being quickly cordoned off by police. It was ugly and squat, the scant moonlight making it seem ominous. Bullock piled out of the car to get a report from a young officer at the scene.

"He's in there alright, Detective," said the boy in blue. "He threatened to put two bullets into anyone except Krentz that went into the building. He's got backup with him.

"Any idea how many?"

"At least five or six. He also said that all the entrances had been wired with explosives. Bomb squad is on the way."

Bullock began directing officers. Hunter took the opportunity to slip away in the confusion. She hurried around to the back of the building before the police could complete their encirclement. Picking her way down a dark, refuse-strewn alley, she found an old fire escape. Hunter jumped, pulled down the ladder, and climbed up to the first landing. Hoping the rusty metal would hold her weight, she continued up the side of the building. She reached a dimly lit window, and paused to peek between the curtains. She saw two men, each rapidly loading an assortment of firearms. Hunter continued her upward ascent. Soon she reached a large sparsely furnished room near the top of the structure. The lighting was low, and she could not make out much of what was inside. She tried the window and found it unlatched. Hunter began to ease her way inside when a shadow of movement from above caught her eye. She strained to see anything in the darkness, but the inky blackness defeated her. Hunter continued inside, and turned to gently close the window when something hard slammed into the back of her skull. The agent dropped to her knees, a galaxy of stars swimming in her vision. A hand reached down, jerked Hunter to her feet and pushed her further into the room. Still unstable, Hunter went down again. She shook her head to try and clear it, looked up, and saw a nightmare in black and white. 

The pictures she had seen of Two-Face didn't do him justice. He was clad in an obviously expensive suit that was symmetrical in color, one half black and the other half white. Even his shoes were mismatched. It was, however, the face that riveted the eye. The right side of Dent's face was smooth and unmarked. At one time, he must have been a handsome man. The right side resembled a piece of mangled meat, with deep scars crisscrossing through the discolored flesh. Hunter noted all that in passing, because what really drew her attention was the .45 caliber handgun pointed at her head.

"Well, well," said Two-Face, his voice hard and raspy from inhaling the chemicals that had disfigured him. "What have we here? One of Gotham's finest getting a little too ambitious?"

Hunter took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "I'm a special agent with the D.E.O. Give yourself over to the proper authorities before this situation escalates any further."

Two-Face laughed, the sound from his half-ruined throat drove spikes through Hunter's skin. "A fed, eh? That is so typical. Stepping on the toes of local law enforcement and trying to hog all the glory." He reached inside of his jacket a took out a silver dollar. "You're a distraction, fed, but I can be reasonable. We'll let chance decide your fate." He showed her both sides of the coin. One was unmarred, the opposite side had been defaced. "Good side means you live. Bad side means you die." He flipped the coin into the air, and caught it without looking. The gun in his hand never wavered. Two-Face extended his arm toward Hunter and slowly opened his hand. The scarred side was showing. "Nothing personal, fed. That's just the way the coin bounces." Hunter felt a scream welling up deep in her lungs, because there was no pity or remorse in either of Two-Face's eyes. Then the window exploded.

A dark shape hurdled into the room along with flying glass and bits of wood. Two-Face whirled around to find Batman staring at him, his face unreadable beneath the cowl. "Drop the gun, Harvey," he said, his voice deep and full of authority. "Don't make this any worse than it is."

"Sorry, Bats. I already flipped the coin."

"The coin doesn't control you, Harvey. Take charge of your own..." The far door to the room burst open, and two armed men rushed in. Hunter had never seen a person move so fast. From near absolute stillness, Batman became a blur of motion. His arm whipped forward, and batarangs sliced through the air, embedding in the shoulders of each thug. Before their initial howls of pain had reached a crescendo, Batman launched himself across the room. He delivered a flying kick into the chest of the closest henchman, slamming him into the wall and unconsciousness. He pivoted toward the second man and threw a hard right into his solar plexus, followed by a left cross to the jaw, and a palm strike to the side of the head. The gunman crumpled to the floor. Batman turned to see Two-Face catch his silver dollar. He looked at it, then sighed.

"You have the best luck, Bats," he said as he dropped the gun. Batman strode over to Two-Face, grabbed him by the lapels of his suit and threw him against the wall.

"Enough, Harvey. Where are the girls?"

"In there," Two-Face indicated a door off to the right with a nod of his head.

Batman turned toward Hunter, who had managed to regain her feet. "Go check on them, while I secure these three and contact the police to inform them about the situation."

Hunter moved toward the door, adrenaline still pumping through her system. She opened it, and walked inside, saying, "It's okay, girls. I'm here to...." Her voice trailed off, and she backed out of the room, a look of absolute horror on her face. She suddenly straightened up, turned and marched toward the cuffed Two-Face, her hand going inside her jacket. She pulled out her service gun, and chambered a round. Batman turned at the sound, and saw Hunter raise her weapon toward Two-Face's head. A gloved hand shot out and knocked the gun away just as Hunter pulled the trigger. The bullet entered the wall an inch away from Dent's head. Batman grabbed Hunter's arm and pried the gun out of her grip.

"What are you doing," he yelled. Hunter didn't say a word, just stood there looking daggers at Two-Face. She tried to punch him then, swinging for his eye, but Batman caught her fist. He shoved her away. "Compose yourself, agent." Still, Hunter said nothing, just pointed at the door. Batman swirled toward the door, directing a "Don't touch him." at Hunter. He cautiously entered the room, well aware of what his appearance could do to small children. The sight inside broke the Batman's heart, and would haunt him for a very long time. One of the twins was tied to a chair. She was gagged and obviously terrified, but otherwise seemed unhurt. The other was unconscious and laid out on a cot set up in the corner, her face turned toward the door. Half of her face was as angelic as her sister's, but the other half was a wrecked mess. Chemical burns, surgical tools and God knew what else had been used to turn the girl into a horrible replica of Two-Face. Batman's shoulders sagged. He slowly gathered himself enough to cut the other girl free from the chair. She fell into his arms and cried. All he could do was hold her and whisper, "I'm sorry," over and over. Eventually, the girl moved over and sat down beside her sister, and began to stroke her hair. Batman left them in the room and walked over to Two-Face, shaking with rage. "Why, Harvey," he asked through gritted teeth.

"They were completely identical. Two sides of the same coin. I couldn't let that stand. One of them had to be..." That was as far as he got, because Batman's fist flashed forward and knocked him out.

He turned toward Hunter. "I'm going to tell the police what happened, and then I am going to go down and neutralize the rest of Two-face's men. Stay with the girls until help arrives." Hunter watched him leave, a Dark Knight on a mission to deal out some pain. She looked at Two-Face lying on the floor, then went inside the small room.

EPILOGUE

Mr. Bones finished the report from Special Agent Angela Hunter, shook his head and put out his cigar. "Kids today are so easily impressed," he said. "They've seen too many action movies." It was time to pull Hunter out of Gotham, and give her a case not quite so morally blurred. He punched a button on his intercom. "Sara, send up the Slade Wilson file, will you?"


End file.
